Elizabeth Childers DUST of my dust, And dust with my dust, O, child who died as you entered the world, Dead with my death! Not knowing Breath, though you tried so hard, With a heart that beat when you lived with me, And stopped when you left me for Life. It is well, my child. For you never traveled The long, long way that begins with school days, When little fingers blur under the tears That fall on the crooked letters. And the earliest wound, when a little mate Leaves you alone for another; And sickness, and the face of Fear by the bed; The death of a father or mother; Or shame for them, or poverty; The maiden sorrow of school days ended; And eyeless Nature that makes you drink From the cup of Love, though you know it’s poisoned; To whom would your flower-face have been lifted? Botanist, weakling? Cry of what blood to yours?— Pure or foul, for it makes no matter, It’s blood that calls to our blood. And then your children—oh, what might they be?

Subscribe to TRAILERS: >Subscribe to COMING SOON: >Subscribe to INDIE & FILM FESTIVALS: >Like us on FACEBOOK: >Follow us on TWITTER: >We Are What We Are Official Trailer 1 (2013) - Ambyr Childers Horror Movie HDA seemingly wholesome and benevolent family, the Parkers have always kept to themselves, and for good reason. Behind closed doors, patriarch Frank rules his family with a rigorous fervor, determine

2013 Remake .When the patriarch of the family passes away, the teenage children must take responsibility for the family chores: the preparation of the rituals, the hunting and putting the all-important meat on the table. These newfound responsibilities are even more daunting, however, when you live in the city and happen to be a family of cannibals.